The New Year's Resolution
by Lurkch
Summary: It's New Year's Eve and Spock decides there's only one person Nyota will be kissing at midnight. This story follows The Intoxication Experiment.


**Author's Note: **I wrote this some time ago and was sure that I had posted it to but can't find it so I'm posting it now (again?).

**Star Date: 2256.365**  
**Old Date: Wednesday, December 31, 2256**  
**Location: Amanda Grayson's Beach House near San Francisco**

Spock unfolded himself from his meditation pose in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and stretched muscles that had not moved in several hours. The susurration of the waves outside had not brought the clarity of mind that they usually did. The sandy beach had long ago faded from view leaving only the white peaks of the breaking waves in the dark and the reflection of the moon on the water.

Moving to the kitchen he heated water for tea, staring unseeingly at the kettle as it did its job (he did not subscribe to the notion that the water would not boil if he did so). The moonlight streamed in through the skylight making artificial light unnecessary so Spock stood in the dark, waiting and reflecting on his last conversation with Nyota Uhura.

_"Is there a problem?" Nyota had asked when he had beckoned her into his office a few minutes before the term's last lab session was to begin._

_"Perhaps." He closed the door behind and moved to his desk. Noticing her surprise, he continued, "The problem does not lie with you. Rather, I wish to discuss an instance of my own behaviour."_

_"I don't understand," she said, lowering herself into the visitor's chair across from his desk._

_"I have concluded that I owe you an apology. I would rather discuss this in a more social setting, but neither of us is likely to have much free time with final examinations approaching. Are you agreeable to a short discussion? You will not be late for your duties."_

_"Okay." She smiled slightly, "I don't suppose many people get apologies from Vulcans."_

_"They do not. It is something my mother has often had occasion to lament." He paused to gather his thoughts and lowered his voice even though it was unlikely anyone could hear their conversation through his office door. "I have a somewhat vague recollection of touching you inappropriately during our experiment with intoxicants. I wished to apologize for doing so."_

_Nyota frowned for a moment, mentally reviewing the events of the evening in question. "You mean when you grabbed my hand?" He nodded and she continued, relieved, "That was pretty mild considering what other drunks have tried. You're fine."_

_"By Human standards it was innocuous." By Vulcan standards it warranted a slap across the face—or charges, depending on how one interpreted the laws surrounding mental touching of non-telepaths without consent._

_"And by Vulcan standards?" Nyota was nothing if not astute, particularly when it came to inferring information that was unspoken._

_"You should draw your conclusion from the fact that I am apologizing." He watched her reaction carefully. She was surprised, certainly, but did not seem particularly offended. Perhaps she did not understand. "You have harmed males for less if Academy rumours are to be believed."_

_"Really?" She cocked her head and looked at him speculatively. "There are rumours about me?"_

_"You punched Cadet Kirk for touching your breasts at a bar. Cadet Santos suffered a sprained hand when he assessed the musculature of your buttocks uninvited. And Commander Shras th'Zarath dislocated a finger performing an, shall we say, unconventional and questionable hold while sparring with you. Are these reports inaccurate?"_

_She shrugged but did not dispute any of the incidents. "So, you're saying you did the Vulcan version of feeling me up."_

_He wasn't precisely sure about her terminology but trusted that her colloquialism was accurate. He simply raised an eyebrow. "I believe so."_

_"And you decided to apologize even though I wasn't likely to figure that out."_

_"I value your companionship. Dishonesty is not conducive to maintaining such a relationship."_

_She nodded and stood up, smoothing her skirt out of habit. "Thank you for being honest with me. And your apology is accepted."_

_"I am gratified."_

_Nyota headed for the door. The lab session would start in a few minutes and he had delayed her preparations. Just before she opened the door, she turned to him._

_"Oh, and Commander Spock?" She hesitated a moment before telling him, "Next time try it sober. I ... liked it."_

_He sat at his desk for a long time after she left, accomplishing absolutely nothing other than to shuffle the contents of his desk around. At least his desk was orderly by the end of the evening. The same could not be said of his mind._

Spock carried his steeped tea to the living room, setting the pot and his cup on a side table, and turned on the entertainment console. He chose a newsvid feed as he sipped his tea.

He had spoken with Nyota since but only to administer oral evaluations for the Intermediate Vulcan course she was helping him with. And for the aural and oral elements of her own Advanced Vulcanoid Languages exam. Twenty-three days since he had pulled her into his office to apologize.

She had ceased being his student with the submission of final grades thirteen days ago and she had left the same day to visit family. She would have returned yesterday evening barring any changes to her itinerary.

She _had been_ his student.

She _was no longer_ his student.

This last thought was the one that preoccupied him tonight. He had been doing research while Nyota had been out of town. While frowned upon, relationships between colleagues were often overlooked or reprimanded lightly under the fraternization rules as long as the participants were not in the same chain of command. This was particularly so at the Academy when the offenders were colleagues rather than student and instructor.

Ill-advised. But possible.

The newsvid feed was showing the first celebration of 2257 but Spock was only peripherally aware of the sights of revelry playing out before him. All he gleaned from the sight was that it was a popular Human custom in many time zones to kiss at the start of the New Year.

Nyota had intended to go to a party this evening. The thought of her kissing someone was an unpalatable one. Not that kissing, per se, was part of his sexual repertoire but its purpose was clear enough. _Not the thought of her kissing someone_, he corrected himself, _the thought of her kissing someone else_.

**Location: Rocket Club, Private Function Room, San Francisco**

"Hey, pretty lady! How about a top up?" Leonard McCoy looked at her glass pointedly, which had been languishing for the last fifteen minutes.

Nyota smiled at Leonard's bonhomie—an unusual and amusing state for the usually dour doctor—and downed the last third of her drink before handing over her glass. With a promise to be right back, Leonard did a clumsy 360 degree turn and headed back to the bar where Nyota assumed he had been a regular customer this evening when he had been out of her sight. At least with Leonard's company she didn't have to fend off unwanted attention—except when he chose to disappear for too long.

Not that she wouldn't mind a little male attention from the right person. _Don't_, she reminded herself. _Some people are just destined to be really good friends_.

_Good friends don't get drunk and play strip 3D chess together_, her inner devil's advocate pointed out.

"Shut up," she muttered under her breath and then looked around in case anyone had managed to hear her talking to herself over the pounding dance music.

Determined not to ruin her mood she looked for something to distract her until Leonard returned. The club's private room wasn't huge, but it was big enough to hold all the members of the Starfleet Academy Junket Club and their dates, which was really anyone Jim Kirk could sweet talk or strong-arm into making a donation to the cause. The cause being stress relief for cadets after exams, breaks, and, tonight, New Year's Eve. The fact that Starfleet cadets had a reputation for being big drinkers had probably helped swing the rental as well.

Kirk had actually done a decent job—or more likely conned several of his lady friends into doing a decent job—of decorating the room with glittering streamers and party favours for all the tables. The drop ceiling above the dance floor had a net strung across it full of balloons. The screen for the audio-visual system interface showed the countdown to midnight in large festive font in between the pulsing light show that accompanied each song. Everything was festive except her mood.

"Gertrude! Why so down?"

_Speak of the devil_. Nyota looked up at Jim Kirk and tried not to laugh. He'd gone all out and dressed up as the New Year's baby—including sash, crown, and diaper.

"Ha, see? I told her I could make you smile."

"You told who?" Nyota looked around but none of the women in sight seemed currently attached to Kirk, although a few were eyeing him as if they wanted to be. Gaila raised a glass at her from across the room, making an approving but lewd motion about Kirk's skimpy outfit.

Kirk slid into Leonard's seat at the table instead of answering. "Where's your date? I've been trying to convince him to dress up as the Old Year but he's giving me a hard time about it."

"Well, a) he's not my date and b) good luck with that."

"You guys seem awfully cosy for not-dates," Kirk needled. "Well, as cosy as that curmudgeon ever gets I suppose."

"He keeps away the guys who can't take a hint."

Kirk assumed a feigned look of hurt for about three seconds before breaking into an infectious grin and shrugging. "Can't blame them for trying. One day you might just say yes, Indira."

"No. On both counts."

Thankfully for Jim Kirk's continued well-being, Leonard returned at that moment balancing a couple of drinks and, even more welcome, a couple slices of the pizza from the late-night buffet.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be protecting her from guys like you. Can't a guy go to the bar without his date being harassed?"

Kirk looked at Uhura pointedly at Leonard's use of the word date.

"Oh, he's not here for me. He's looking for you," Uhura said quickly, derailing any attempt at teasing that Kirk might have been about to launch into.

Leonard set her Andorian Ice Flow before her and took a seat beside her and across from Kirk.

"I already told you, no." Leonard glared at Kirk. "Leave me—us—alone."

"Oh, c'mon. I got you the costume, you just have to change into it."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you have a congenital hearing problem. No, non, nein." Having run through his meagre list of languages he turned to Uhura for help.

Uhura rattled off the word no in a number of languages with ease. By the time she was a third of the way through Terran languages, Kirk was holding up his hands in defeat. Undeterred and needing a mental challenge, she continued between bites of cold pizza to Leonard's snickering appreciation. Once the Terran languages were exhausted, she started on alien languages and dialects.

Outside the club, Spock huddled inside his cloak as he leaned against the wall several metres from the entrance. The bouncer had not been inclined to let him in and only barely civil at his request to have someone find Nyota Uhura and ask her to come outside. He was not the only person frustrated by the bouncer. A line of people intent on entering the premises were being stymied by the bouncer's assertion that occupancy was at its limit. In defiance they had taken to dancing on the sidewalk to the beat of the pounding music that the club was broadcasting onto the street.

Spock looked over as the music suddenly spilled onto the street as the club door opened. He recognized the lithe female figure talking to the bouncer who simply pointed in Spock's direction. She frowned as she walked over to him clearly not recognizing the dark cloak as his. Given that many of the people milling about were cadets, he kept his hood on. Not until she was almost next to him did she realize who he was.

"This is a surprise," she said, hugging herself against the chilly air. "So you decided to come to the party after all?"

"I did not." Now that he was, in fact, speaking to her, he was uncertain how to begin the conversation.

"Oh." Nyota stood with him companionably for a few moments.

Spock found himself at a loss for the correct words for the occasion and they lapsed into an awkward silence.

"So, uh, why are you here?"

"I wished to speak with you."

Nyota looked at him expectantly and he was about to speak when a couple of cadets walked by. They greeted Nyota, staring curiously at the stranger in the dark cloak, and a short conversation ensued throughout which Spock stood back silently.

"Could we walk?" He asked when the cadets had finally moved on. He was uncomfortable with the people crowding the sidewalk and the attendant scrutiny and noise.

"Oh. Okay."

They walked in silence along the sidewalk, weaving around revellers getting a breath of fresh air or, in some instances, polluting it with illicit substances.

His flitter was parked several blocks down, which was quite close considering the celebrations—it helped that the flitter had diplomatic registration. He placed his hand over the biometric sensor and the flitter door slide open, warm air spilling out. He stepped inside but Nyota had stopped on the street. He turned to look at her quizzically.

"I thought you wanted to walk."

"I wished some privacy for our conversation."

"Oh." Still she hesitated at the threshold of the flitter, but the warmth won her over and she stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her, sealing her in along with the heat. Spock offered her the co-pilot's seat while he slid into the pilot's seat.

"Are we going somewhere?" Nyota rubbed her hands together to fight off the lingering chill from their walk.

"No, this merely seemed the most expedient choice for a private conversation."

"So, what are we talking about?"

"Do you value our friendship, Nyota?"

"Yes, of course," she frowned in the dim light, taken aback at the topic. "Have I done something to make you think that I don't?"

"You have not," Spock assured her. "I wish to assure you that I, too, value your friendship. Very much so."

"Oookay."

Spock sighed. Clearly he had not thought through the right conversational approach as she simply seemed confused and unsure of his intentions. Perhaps another approach.

"You are no longer my student," he said. "And you have no further courses with me."

"I know that, Spock." She was still rubbing her hands together to warm so Spock flicked on the air vent on her side. A blast of hot air poured from the vent. "Thanks," she said, placing her hands over the vent.

"In light of that, I wished to discuss a possible change in the parameters of our relationship."

Nyota took her hands off the vent and looked over at him, pushing wayward strands of hair behind her ears and giving up as the air flow pulled them free again.

"The parameters of our relationship?"

"Yes."

In the distance, the sound of revellers counting down the seconds to midnight could be heard from nearby bars and clubs.

"I don't know what that means, Spock."

"Parameters," he repeated, leaning over and pushing the dancing strands of hair behind her ear with a gloved hand. He was so close that their noses almost touched and he could see into her eyes and smell her scent.

"Oh." Nyota bit her lip and looked at him. And then she smiled and slide a hand around his neck so that he couldn't retreat. "_Oh_."

A small sound, but in it Spock heard both revelation and invitation. Then he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers.


End file.
